


Come Closer

by sithsecrets



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Developing Relationship, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24364834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithsecrets/pseuds/sithsecrets
Summary: “Wife,” the Supreme Leader counters, reclining back on his hands as he regards you. You hate him in that moment, for he looks too good, too handsome.All of this might be easier to initiate if you weren’t actually interested. Your attraction to your husband is throwing you off your game, making you skittish.“Don’t be nervous,” your husband chides, beckoning you with an outstretched hand. “Come closer.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	Come Closer

Two women work to make you ready for your first night as a married woman, the both of them almost silent as they go about their duties. You’re prepared like a sweet treat, wrapped like an opulent, expensive present.

The process is a meticulous one. They put you in a bath first, lathering your skin with fragranced soaps and a scrub that’s supposed to make you soft. Oils and lotions are applied next, the perfumed substances massaged into your supple new skin with extra care, lest a mark or a bruise come to mar your beauty. Even your usual skincare is applied for you, one of the women standing between your legs as she asks what step comes next, as she asks how much moisturizer you want on your face and neck. You feel like a doll at the mercy of two very articulate, nimble little girls, but you know as well as they do that all of this is being done for the Supreme Leader and the Supreme Leader alone.

He’ll be the one having you tonight, Kylo Ren. It feels almost surreal, the notion that the two of you are married now, but that may have something to do with the fact that you’ve only met a handful of times before this night. The whole marriage was arranged by himself and your parents, a political move to secure the alliance between your large, mineral-rich planet and the First Order. You don’t really know the Supreme Leader, and you’ve certainly never been alone with him before. To say that you’re nervous would be an understatement, given the fact that this night will likely set the tone for the rest of your marriage.

You almost tell your attendants not to bother when they move to dress you in a nightgown, but you decide that it might be best to just keep your mouth shut. You don’t recognize the inky black garment, and you figure that the Supreme Leader’s decreed that you wear it for him. Thankfully, it’s a real piece of clothing, not just some scrap of lingerie, though there are a few details that make it a bit prettier than need be. Sheer details, a few ruffles on the cuffs and the hem, and a laced closure in the front… The Supreme Leader must like taking his time, you decide, because it will take some patience to get this thing off you when he’s ready to do so.

Finally, after you’re dressed, both women step back, folding their hands in front of them. They say nothing, but you understand at once that they’re finished now. You aren’t sure how the attendants do it, but two guards come into the room almost as if on cue.

“Take me to him,” you say to the two faceless forms, following obediently as they lead you from the room.

It’s not a long journey to the Supreme Leader’s quarters, and you’re not sure if that fact upsets you as you step inside. The rooms are as you expected, plainly decorated, practical, all done in shades of red and black and white.

Your husband waits for you, settled on the edge of his bed. It would seem that you’re not the only one who was made ready for this moment, for the Supreme Leader is barefoot and dressed in nightclothes of his own now. An educated guess would tell you that he’s bathed as well, if the smell of soap wafting in from the ‘fresher is enough to go on.

The two of you look at each for a long, silent moment, you stationed in the doorway of the bedroom. You know you should go to the Supreme Leader, that it’s time all this started, but your feet remain stuck to the floor. The look on your husband’s face is unreadable, though he does seem rather calm.

“Husband,” you say evenly, still keeping your distance.

“Wife,” the Supreme Leader counters, reclining back on his hands as he regards you. You hate him in that moment, for he looks too good, too handsome.

All of this might be easier to initiate if you weren’t actually _interested_. Your attraction to your husband is throwing you off your game, making you skittish.

 **“Don’t be nervous,”** your husband chides, beckoning you with an outstretched hand. **“Come closer.”**

You step into the room fully now, coming to stand before the Supreme Leader. Still, he draws you closer, only satisfied when you’re standing between his spread legs. You can feel it now, the heat of his body, the warmth seeping in through the fabric of your nightgown.

“You look very pretty in this,” Kylo Ren declares, speaking of his gift to you. His hand reaches out, palm smoothing over the black fabric that drapes over your body so perfectly.

You try not to show how much his touch affects you, how it makes your skin prickle with desire. “Thank you, Supreme Leader.”

“Don’t call me that,” Kylo says to you. “We’re equals now. I will not have you address me by my title, especially not in here.”

There’s something about the way your husband says this that makes you think that all of this might be okay. Tonight, tomorrow morning… the rest of your marriage. So you sink down, settling yourself in his lap with ease.

“Are you going to fuck me tonight, or are you going to continue being polite and pretend like you don’t want to?”

It’s a strong statement, perhaps even a presumptuous one, but the Supreme Leader doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’m not sure,” he counters. “Are you going to let me fuck you, or are you going to play coy and pretend like you haven’t been fantasizing about it since we first met?”

You grin then, only mildly embarrassed to have been called out. “Prick.”

“Oh, darling,” Kylo laughs dryly, his hands all over you now. “You have no idea.”


End file.
